


It Does(n't) Matter

by MYSTERYstew



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: AU of s2e05, Ben is watching this happen and suffering in the ghost realm, Five is angry though, Gen, I feel the need to say that, Number Five | The Boy Whump, The Hargreeves are a mess, There's no like character hate here, but we love them, nothing new, some language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-28
Updated: 2020-08-28
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:02:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26154646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MYSTERYstew/pseuds/MYSTERYstew
Summary: It’s a familiar feeling, being lifted up by Luther and tossed around like he weighs nothing (to Luther he certainly does), it was a favorite move of Luther’s as a child. Nostalgia is not what Five feels, he’s too busy flailing as Luther throws him over the railing.or, Five fails a jump
Relationships: Number Five | The Boy & Allison Hargreeves, Number Five | The Boy (Umbrella Academy) & Everyone
Comments: 68
Kudos: 816





	It Does(n't) Matter

**Author's Note:**

> Here's a little something I started writing a few weeks ago and then stopped and then suddenly had a burst of energy to finish.

The family meeting derailed again.

At this point Five shouldn’t be surprised and yet he is. There’s always something, it seems, that makes his siblings resistant to actually making a solid plan for doomsday.

This time it’s surprisingly Luther. Just the week before (a week for Five, a year for Luther and who knows what else for the others, he thinks guiltily) Luther had been his staunchest supporter in stopping the apocalypse. Now he’s turned down Five two different times, seemingly mad at Five and sorry for himself the first time and unwilling to meet up with their father the second.

And Five would love for his brother to offer up an alternative. For any of his siblings to step up and offer advice or a different plan. They don’t though, so it falls to Five to try and save them (again) and Five is running on fumes and is out of directions. He needs his father’s advice on time travel, as much as it grates on him.

Luther walks away. Ignoring the most important part of what Five said, that they all die once more (he sees it, the nukes descending, his mind kindly informing him that there wouldn’t have been bodies that time but he knows what they should look like in death either way) and that Five doesn’t know how to stop it.

Diego hops out of his chair to follow Luther, Allison calling them back. Five stands there in disbelief. He’s tired. He’s so tired physically and mentally. He has seen his siblings dead twice now and he has had his ass kicked repeatedly for two weeks. His body hurts, old wounds throbbing along with new ones. And his brothers are leaving when there’s still work to be done.

He pulls himself through space with effort, the tear sticking briefly before it eases and lets him through. He pops out on the stairs, blocking Luther and Diego who look unimpressed.

“No one leaves until we figure this out,” Five says lowly, trying to convey just how serious the situation is.

Luther looks down, nodding his head, behind him Diego looks from Five to Luther amused. Five’s brow furrows in confusion that clears up fast when Luther reaches forward and grabs the front of his jacket. It’s a familiar feeling, being lifted up by Luther and tossed around like he weighs nothing (to Luther he certainly does), it was a favorite move of Luther’s as a child. Nostalgia is not what Five feels, he’s too busy flailing as Luther throws him over the railing.

Five has always had quick reflexes. As he falls he pulls, drawing on his power only to feel it stick again, unresponsive this time. He slams into the floor not a second later, air rushing out of him and body flaring with pain. He clenches his eyes shut, body instinctively curling in on itself and making his torso further light up in protest. What was dull throbbing pain not ten seconds ago is now sharp, the worst of it low on his stomach. It feels hot and wet, only getting wetter as his shrapnel wound’s stitches fail.

“Shit,” he hisses through the flare of pain as he shifts to uncurl.

“Five!” someone yells.

He unclenches his eyes, enough to look up. Luther and Diego are stood frozen on the stairs, eyes wide in surprise.

“What the hell just happened?” someone asks. Allison if Five had to guess, he’s a little more occupied with moving a hand to his abdomen. Yep, definitely bleeding.

His brothers seem to jolt out of their frozen state thanks to Allison, running down the stairs and to him. They both reach for him and Five finds himself growling in anger and pain, “Don’t fucking touch me.”

To their credit they both stop, Luther looking panicked and guilty and Diego eyeing him like he may bite.

More feet pound down the stairs and Five wants to bang his head against the floor and forget all of this because now the whole circus has shown up to stare at him. They all freeze, gawking at him laid out on the floor, standing above him like assholes.

“Oh my god, Five, are you okay?” Allison asks, moving forward and dropping down next to him. Her eyes rake over him, concerned, landing on where his hand clutches his abdomen. “Is that blood?” she demands.

“It’s nothing,” Five snarls hastily.

Allison, his stubborn sister, ignores him reaching forward to pry his hand away and get a look. Five swats at her, far weaker than usual, and she manages move his hand away and peel his clothes up. What she sees has her hissing through her teeth.

“What is it?” Vanya asks, hovering with the others.

“What’s wrong with him?” Luther asks Allison, as if Five isn’t there.

Five would feel vindicated that he goes ignored by Allison, if Allison wasn’t intensely focusing on Five. “Five, how long have you been in the sixties?”

Five clenches his teeth. “Not long.”

Allison’s eyebrows turn down and she opens her mouth to question him more when Diego sticks his stupid face into the conversation. “He said he just got here a few days ago.”

Allison’s eyebrows shoot up. “Is this the same shrapnel wound you almost bled out from?” she asks dangerously.

And Five has had enough of this shit, all the staring and the interrogating. He slaps Allison’s hands away with force this time, making her blink. He heaves himself further from her and sits up. It hurts and there’s definitely a swell of more blood that has him slapping a hand back against the shrapnel wound. At least he can breathe a little better.

“Whoa, buddy, maybe you should just relax?” Luther suggests, hands held out placatingly.

“I’m not listening to you, asshole,” Five snaps, pushing himself so he can stand. It takes effort and once he’s upright he feels like he’s going to crash to the floor once again, as if he’s standing on rough waters. It could be the blood loss, he thinks despairingly, a thirteen-year old body does not deal with blood loss nearly as well as a fifty-eight-year old one.

He must be visibly unstable too because Allison grabs his elbow and puts her other hand in the middle of his back. It feels…rather pleasant honestly, a gentle touch that isn’t overwhelming with his jacket between them.

“You need to stop moving around Five, before you make things worse,” Allison cautions.

Five scoffs, “What I need is for us to get back on topic. Remember the whole doomsday thing we were just talking about? Well, I would certainly feel better if we could all make a plan for how to stop that.”

“I know I don’t remember much, but I think that we should prioritize you right now,” Vanya says.

“I don’t matter,” Five argues, pressing harder against his side.

“You don’t matter? You’re bleeding out again!” Diego snaps.

“On the scale of what I’m concerned about right now this is not even on the scale!”

“Holy shit can we argue about this while we get Five some medical attention,” Klaus interjects exasperated, seeming to have sobered up a bit due to current events.

This, against all odds, gets everyone to shut up, their attention solely on Five. It’s beyond uncomfortable having the weight of their gazes on him like this. He glares back hard, aware that he must look pathetic with his hand clenched over his abdomen and his shoulders hunching from the pain. It doesn’t stop him from mutely daring one of them to try coming closer.

And because his family lacks brain cells they do.

Luther comes with his hands held up, looking like he’s trying to calm a startled animal, the gentle shushing does not help with the image and only serves to make Five bristle. Diego flanks Luther, no gentle shushes, just iron resolution. Klaus smiles, inching closer with Vanya hovering next to him, her face set in quiet determination that hadn’t been present last week. Allison is worst of all. Five recognizes the posture, long faded memories of the rare occasion Grace had held herself in that way surfacing. A stern mother. Though Allison is more of a frustrated sister in this situation, the undertone is there.

Five bares his teeth at them and shuffles backward. “Back. Off.” He hisses, very much aware that he is in no shape to stop them. His body hurts and he’s definitely feeling the blood loss now.

Vanya and Klaus hesitate, grimacing while the other three are undeterred. It’s a stand-off between him and the rest, each step they take Five matches with his own unsteady one. They don’t rush him, perhaps wary of exacerbating his injuries or maybe they really are intimidated by the snarl on his face.

In the end their deadlock is broken by the simple act of Five’s legs buckling from under him. Diego is there, catching him and keeping Five from collapsing on the floor. Five blinks and the next thing he knows he’s being swept into Luther’s giant arms. It takes longer than usual for Five to process this information, they’re halfway up the stairs with the others trailing behind them before he manages a scowl and shoves his hand into his brother’s face.

“Put me down!” he growls.

“Fi-beee,” Luther grunts.

Five adds his other hand to the mix, Luther can’t stop him and he takes full advantage. He may be weak and shaky and in pain but it doesn’t stop him slapping a hand over one of Luther’s eyes and pinching his nose and twisting with the other. It feels cathartic after being tossed over the banister.

They have to stop and Five is vaguely aware that the rest of his siblings are saying something. He ignores them and focuses on Luther’s clear discomfort, the way he tries to twist his face away from Five’s onslaught. There is no escape, not unless he drops Five.

Then there are new arms shoved under him alongside Luther’s and Five is being pulled away, his grip slipping as he’s cradled against a new chest.

“Damnit Five,” Diego curses, hefting Five the rest of the way up the stairs.

Five would bury his hands in that mop his brother calls hair and yank if not for the wave of vertigo that the change of hands causes him. Before he knows it, he’s being deposited on the couch, surprisingly gently. The brief moment of calm is ruined when Diego shoves his hands against the shrapnel wound making Five grit his teeth against the flare of white-hot pain.

Allison appears out of thin air, as if she’s the one with spatial jumps, her hands laden with a large first aid kit.

“Here, little guy,” Klaus says from behind Five, making him tense at the unexpectedness of it. His whole body stiffens as Klaus slides his hands under the collar of his blazer and slips it off his shoulders. His tie is next and then the sweater vest is pulled over his head uncomfortably.

It feels weird to be without the entire uniform in front of his siblings, like some line of defense has been lost.

“What is that?” Allison asks pointing to his bare forearm.

It takes Five a few long moments to process, he has to look at his arm to try and figure out what she’s talking about. In all honesty, Five had forgotten about the gash. The one he’d given himself digging the tracker out his first night back in 2019. It’s an angry red, thankfully scabbing over and not in danger of bleeding in spite of the rough treatment Five’s body has taken in recent days.

“A scratch,” he says.

Allison stares at it a moment longer before focusing on Diego. “Diego, maybe you should move,” Allison suggests.

Diego, who is still holding his hands tightly against Five, looks at her in challenge. “I can handle this.”

“Yeah, but I’m pretty sure there’s torn stitches so…” she holds up a needle and thread, looking at him pointedly.

Diego looks conflicted. Five sighs, it comes out shakier than he’d like. “Just get the curling iron,” he suggests.

Diego’s head whips away from Allison. “We’re not using the curling iron.”

“You used it the other day,” Five argues. “Just one and done this shit.”

“Wait, are you asking to be cauterized?” Vanya asks, sounding like she doesn’t really want the answer.

“Are you saying you already have?” Allison growls at Diego.

Diego doesn’t look at Allison. “That was Lila,” he tells Five.

“Figures.” What a Commission-like thing to do.

Allison shakes her head. “Alright, we’re circling back to that later. Diego, move.”

Their brother obliges and Allison slides into the spot he occupied, prying Five’s shirt up so she can see the damage. Five watches her, there’s nothing else he can do. Her eyebrows knit together, a brief flash of anger in her eyes and then she looks up to meet his gaze, her eyes searching. At this point Five is getting impatient.

“Can you hurry up? I’ve got things to do,” he snipes.

“I don’t have anything to numb it with,” Allison says instead of what’s on her mind.

Klaus waves from the kitchen. “There’s alcohol, but I guess he is a minor, huh. That’s a real bummer for you shortstack.”

Klaus has no idea.

“Whatever, stop wasting my time.”

It’s enough for Allison to get started. It’s painfully slow going, quite literally. Five feels so tired and he really just wants to lay down and never get up (soon, but not yet) but thoughts of nuclear holocausts keep him lucid if a little foggy. The rest of his siblings hover around and it’s not comfortable at all having them stand there quietly watching him while he’s vulnerable and exposed. He’s had so many dreams that are just like that, dead siblings silently watching with milky eyes as he fails again and again and again—

He looks down at Allison’s hands. Her stitches aren’t bad, a little shaky, and she’s moving so slow and her face is intensely focused—

“You’re still drunk,” Five observes flatly.

Allison’s eyes dart up to his, wide and caught out. “I’m not drunk—”

“Just a little buzzed. Yeah I’ve heard that before.” She’d said that when he picked her and Klaus up. Really, why had he let her start stitching him up? Had he really forgotten that detail because of the chaos?

“I can do it,” Luther offers.

“Keep your greasy paws to yourself,” Five warns, still feeling miffed at him.

Diego faints at needles, Klaus is Klaus, and Vanya is an amnesiac. He could let Allison continue her snail pace or—

“Hey!” she exclaims as Five pries the needle from her and shoves her hands away.

He’s tired and weak and a little numb, not the best combination for putting in stitches but Five has the experience. He threads the needle through his skin and loses himself in the mechanical motion of it all until he can tie the stitches off.

He slaps a new bandage over it without care, the jolt of pain helping to lift the fog in his brain.

“Right,” he says absently, looking around for the rest of his clothes. “Where did you put my things?”

“Why do you need your things?” Diego asks, coming closer now that there’s no needle piercing flesh.

Five levels him a look conveying just how stupid he thinks Diego is. “Were you not listening to me earlier?”

“I try not to listen to ass—”

“Let me repeat it for you then,” Five says dangerously. “The world is going to end again and you are all going to die horribly… _again_. Ergo, _I_ have shit to do in order for that to not happen, since _you_ assholes are all useless.”

“I helped you find dad!”

“Because you think he kills JFK and you are obsessed with saving the man. Despite how I’ve told you messing with the timeline can have disastrous effects, like causing the apocalypse!”

“Wait, what?” Vanya mutters.

“If that’s true then why do you want to meet dad?!” Luther bursts out.

Five takes a deep breath feeling his chest expand painfully and doing his best to reign the simmering anger in. “ _Because Luther_ we need to find a way back to 2019 and our only option is dad.”

“Couldn’t you just jump us forward?” Klaus asks, pouring himself a drink.

Luther has the audacity to scoff (and he’s right to, Five _stranded_ them). “Who knows when we’d land, or if we’d even end up in the same place.”

“So, we’re agreeing then. Klaus, give me my clothes”

“I’m not agreeing to meet him,” Luther argues.

Klaus waves a hand, grabbing Five’s things to throw at him when Allison stands up and holds out a hand to stop him. “Uh, how about no.”

“No what?” Five asks, gritting his teeth. If they would just give him his clothes he could get back to trying to save their asses.

Allison’s eyebrows rise as she looks at each and every one of them in disbelief. “I can’t believe I’m the only one thinking this but, Five you almost just bled out. You are not getting up and doing _anything_.”

“Allison,” he starts, voice low and furious.

“I caught a little glimpse under your shirt, Five, and I’ve gotta say you look like shit. I can only imagine what I can’t see right now.” Her eyes sweep over him, “Hell, what I can see is bad too.”

Five can feel his face heating up, anger and embarrassment warring with each other. “I’m fine.”

“Uh, I’m actually going to agree with Allison,” Vanya pipes up. It makes Five blink, the out of character boldness, before he remembers that his sister doesn’t remember anything, of course she has no problem speaking up.

“She’s got a point. In fact, you haven’t looked well since…uh, how many years ago did you run away?” Klaus snaps his fingers thinking, “Right! 20-ish years ago…I think.”

Diego nods his head to this.

“Yeah, I’m sorry for throwing you, Five,” Luther says, sounding sincere and Five just knows he’s got a ‘but’ to tag on there. “But you clearly were already injured and didn’t say anything.”

When is Five not hurt in some way? That’s been his natural state for all his life.

“It doesn’t matter,” Five snaps.

Allison leans closer scrutinizing him further. Five hates this, the way they are all staring down at him, examining him like some new specimen in a petri dish. “Have you even slept?”

“Yes,” he growls. He did pass out twice the week before, and he caught a few minutes in the lulls between objectives.

She stares at him disbelieving.

“Oof. That did not sound convincing,” Klaus tuts.

Why is this suddenly a priority for them? How come they can focus on a subject only when it’s not the literal fiery end of the world?

Why are they suddenly so concerned for him?

“…think I’ve even seen you eat,” Diego is saying.

“We went to a diner, but all he had was coffee,” Vanya adds.

“I haven’t seen him eat since that sandwich he had when he first showed up,” Diego continues.

“He should have something now. He lost quite a bit of blood so maybe some juice too,” Luther suggests, moving to the kitchen to look.

Klaus points to the coffee table. “There’s jell-o. That could work right?”

“I…don’t recommend eating that.”

They’re so easily sidetracked it makes Five want to scream.

There’re hands reaching for the front of Five’s shirt. He grabs them before they can connect, his eyes tracking back up to Allison. “What are you doing?” he hisses.

“I’m trying to see if there’s anything else that needs attention,” she says back, unintimidated.

“I’m not going to sit here and let you paw at me. I don’t know what the fuck is going through your heads right now, and frankly I don’t care, this is all a waste of time.” The venom in his voice silences them, drawing all their attention back to him.

Allison meets his glare stubbornly before sighing, seeming to deflate. It smacks of insincerity, one of her performances. “Alright Five,” she says, tugging her hands from his loose hold. “If you can get up and walk out of here then I guess you really are fine.”

It’s a challenge, the way her eyebrow shoots up just daring him to prove his claim.

It’s also a trap.

Well, Five has spent much of his life forging forward and overcoming obstacles through sheer stubbornness and spite. He’s not about to stop now. Even if he feels weak, especially because he does.

Five braces his feet amidst the protesting of the others, Allison the only quiet one. He pushes himself up, it takes effort to shove his hands against the couch enough to get vertical, he gets there though. His vision blurs, going dark for a moment and he stands swaying slightly waiting for it to pass.

Once he can see again he scowls. Diego had moved back over, hands ready to grab Five. The rest are standing nearby with grimaces on their faces. Allison steps back and out of his way, freeing up the path between couch and table for him.

He takes a slow breath and shuffles forward. He doesn’t immediately buckle, legs somewhat unsteady but holding up. He’s not about to let himself fall in front of his siblings. He takes a firmer step, confidence growing.

He should’ve known. The universe hates him.

As he takes his next step his legs crumble. He tenses, ready to smack into the floor for the second time that day, and then there are arms grabbing him and bracing him against their body. Allison, he realizes. She’d been prepared for this to happen. He feels a great deal of mortification at having proved her right.

Diego moves to them and grabs Five’s other side, helping to maneuver Five back onto the couch with Allison.

Five can’t look at any of his siblings, staring resolutely at the coffee table instead.

Klaus leans across the table with a glass of juice, “Good effort old timer, I’ll give you points for trying.”

Allison snatches the glass from his hand and holds it out to Five. He takes it mechanically, the sweet smell enticing and revolting simultaneously. “Drink it all,” she orders.

Five shoots a glare at her but takes a tentative sip. His lips curl at the taste, unsure if he likes it or not.

“Here,” Luther says holding out a hand and presenting a single chocolate chip cookie.

Five ends up with juice and a cookie. The cookie is stale, crumbling all over him. He can’t find it in himself to care at this point, shoving the rest of it in his mouth.

Allison clears her throat, bringing the attention away from Five’s mechanical chewing. “Maybe you guys could get something a little more substantial.”

“Tacos sound really good,” Klaus says immediately.

Vanya smiles, “They do actually.”

“Ribs are easy though,” Luther adds.

Allison sighs, “Just get something for all of us.”

“Aw, family dinner,” Klaus laughs heading to the stairs and casting a look back at Five before disappearing.

Vanya follows him with Luther in tow.

“Make sure they get something good,” Allison says pointedly to Diego, who is still hovering next to them.

Allison and him make eye contact for a long moment before Diego leaves. “Try not to keel over old man,” Diego calls over his shoulder.

Five flips him off weakly.

Five stares into his orange juice. It’s too sweet and acidic he decides, it makes his tongue tingle unpleasantly. He downs the rest of it like a shot, doing his best not to let it linger.

Allison takes the glass, putting it on the table and turning back to kneel down in front of him. “Five,” she says softly. “Can I look now?”

Ah. Her ulterior motive reveals itself.

“I’m fine,” Five says without thought.

Allison’s face twists. “You’re not. You just fought tooth and nail for us to not take care of you when you were actively bleeding out.”

“Because it doesn’t matter,” Five says.

Allison shakes her head, voice rising. “It does! God, Five, it’s not a waste of time to take care of yourself or to let us take care of you!”

“Why do you care about me?!” Five yells.

Allison shifts back, surprised at the outburst.

“It is a waste of time! Every second we get closer to Armageddon and you all act like it doesn’t matter! I saw y-you—" his voice breaks and he twists his fingers into his thigh to get it under control “—you all die.” He chokes out. “I had to see it again and I don’t know how to stop it. This,” he says, waving his free hand at himself, “doesn’t matter until you’re all safe.”

“Five,” Allison breathes, her eyes wide. She lifts a hand to his cheek and if he didn’t feel so drained he might flinch away. The touch is soft though, far more pleasant than he expected and far more wet. He feels embarrassment rise as he realizes there’s tears on his cheeks and his sister is wiping them away for him.

Allison removes her hand and grabs the one he has clawing at his thigh, holding it firmly. “I’m sorry,” she says earnestly. Five looks at her confused. “You’ve been through a lot and…and for you it hasn’t even been a week since the last apocalypse.”

“Stop that,” he demands quietly. He doesn’t want to hear his siblings apologize to him.

“No, listen, Five. I’m sorry that it’s happening again. I’m sorry that we’re…such a mess,” she says with a wry smile. “But we’re going to figure this out.”

Five glares. “Stop apologizing.”

“We’re going to figure this out,” she repeats, “and we’ll need everyone. That means you too. And that means you need to rest and let yourself heal before you end up passed out in a hospital or lying in an early grave.”

Five blinks at her.

Her thumb rubs against the back of his hand. “Please let me check you for more injuries.”

Five bites the inside of his cheek before finally nodding to her. Allison doesn’t waste time after he gives permission, unbuttoning his shirt and looking at his torso. It’s darkened with bruises, his fight with the big Swede had been more of a pummeling on his end. Allison frowns, poking and prodding his ribs, they hurt but he’s pretty sure nothing is cracked. His arm is next. She cleans the gash on his arm, discovers the bullet graze from Hazel and Cha-Cha on his shoulder, sending him an annoyed look, and cleans those stitches as well.

Five watches her check him over tiredly, the bursts of energy and fluctuating emotions having drained him. That and the shrapnel wound.

Allison straightens him up after, washing some of the blood from earlier off of him and buttoning his shirt again. Once she’s packed everything away she returns to the couch and slumps next to him.

“You should get some sleep before they get back,” she suggests.

Five hums. Not quite agreeing.

Allison shifts next to him and then puts her hands around his shoulders. “This will help,” she says, guiding him down to her lap.

He doesn’t fight her, he’s already fought his siblings enough for the day. And it might make Allison feel good to think she’s helped. He drags his feet onto the couch so there’s no more pull on his abdomen. Allison hums, Five’s not sure if it’s a song or some random pattern that his sister is making up on the fly, but it acts as nice white noise.

His eyes drift close without his permission. He’s aware of Allison’s hand slowly carding through his hair, the soft scratch of her nails pleasant and the repetitive motion lulling. His mind drifts away.

__

The others return laden with food bags to find Allison on the couch with Five passed out on her lap. They watch fascinated as she runs her fingers through his hair like it’s the most natural and safe thing to do with the feral old man. She smiles at them, smug at their disbelieving faces.

**Author's Note:**

> Me: it's Five and an ensemble of his siblings  
> Also Me: *Focuses on Allison and Five mostly...again*
> 
> Anyways I hope the ending isn't rushed, but I really wanted to post it and I'm pretty happy so we'll see


End file.
